Blond Silence
by PinkWhirlWind
Summary: After the Game, ss Seifer has been returned to Balamb, but he's mute and not the same as he was. Squall longs for the voice and person he knew, but finds maybe he didn't know Seifer as well as he thought, and maybe... just maybe the Seifer he knew as a ch
1. zero

Blond Silence 0/?

By Nix Winter

Disclaimer: Wah… still don't own ff8! But one day I will be King… no wait, that's Aragorn. I still don't own ff8, but one day I will write for a living! Yeah. That's me.

Red drum: You are so right! I'll write Episode Zero, then write four.. and there are going to be vampires in this story….

Zero

Squall could feel it right between his shoulder blades, a nasty chill prickle. He was being followed. He shoved his hands down into his pockets and slowed a little.

A rumor about a blond phantom had drawn him to Esthar. The war behind them, everyone had come back from the time compression. Everyone except Seifer.

Where did one look for someone who didn't want to be found? So many times, Squall had dreamed of Seifer sitting on the docks, fishing with Fuujin and Raijin. He'd dreamed it so many times that Rinoa had finally drew his dream out of him. That had been the end of them sleeping together.

They'd enjoyed each other, and she'd been the one to pull back, always a little wiser than he anyway. She'd said that she loved him and understood that he loved and that she would never abandon him. He believed her. He trusted her. That's why he'd slept with her in the first place. He needed her. She wanted that connection. He was eighteen. It wasn't hard.

She had even come to Esthar with him, seeking this phantom. Without her, he wouldn't have even known about the phantom artist of Esthar. She'd always had connections and a smile she could turn to information when she needed too. And she was a sorceress.

She was also in a building high above where they were with some very good binoculars. Her voice whispered in his ear. "You have a little puppy following you."

She didn't always make good sense either. "Hmmn," he acknowledged. Any kind of puppy following him would likely be rabid. He didn't much like Esthar.

"Nawsh," she cursed, "The puppy is blond and he's wearing a gray trench."

Squall missed a step, then turned into an alley. Seifer was dead. There wasn't any other way to really understand why he hadn't come home. He had to know that Edea, others controlled by the sorceress had been pardoned. Staying in hiding so long only made it seem as if he were guilty. Squall laid a hand on his pistol, heart in his throat. What ever imposter thought to make profit from Seifer's memory was going to pay for it.

"He followed you in," Rinoa said. "He's so thin. Not Seifer, even if he's got Seifer's coat."

And then

A horrible

Realization came to Squall.

Seifer had come back from time compression and someone had killed him. Loss, a gaping hole of grief opened in Squall and he caressed his pistol. Whoever had Seifer's coat would be talking shortly. Just a little deeper into the darkness and Squall would have his answers.

"Violence does not become you," Rinoa said. Lovers or not, they still shared a bond that let her read his emotions better than he could himself. He didn't even want to know how she did that.

He slowed, hyper aware of the slimy pavement under him, the recent rain, the stink of garbage from a barbeque place, of the scent of leather from his own jacket, Rinoa's perfume clinging to the white fur that made him stand out in the darkness. And then, of the steps behind him, shuffling, heavier to one side than the other, the rattle of breath, and he hated this person, whoever it was, some pathetic creature that could steal Seifer's memory as if it were no more than some half used wine bottle. Seifer, gods he wanted Seifer so badly, wanted to fight with him and hold him and never argue again, to forgive him for leaving the orphanage, to forgive him for being tricked by Ultimicia, and most of all to ask Seifer to forgive him. He couldn't do those things, could never have that forgiveness, but he could protect Seifer's memory from people.

Spinning, he threw up a light spell, glowing with a slight red tint in the darkness of his rage.

The man revealed by that light stood straight, blond hair nearly to his shoulders, dark circles under his green eyes, tangled red and pale scar etched up the right side of a so familiar face. There in the center, between feral green eyes was the scar Squall had put there, a single red line.

The red spell light flickered, casting shadows and Squall panicked. A ghost. "Seifer?"

Slender fingers rose before the ghost working calling a spell and Squall stood there, watching the light build, hand on his pistol. His entire world was this spectral Seifer, cheek bones so visible, power drawing up for one final battle. "Seifer! What are you doing? I don't want to fight you! I didn't come looking for you to fight you! Stop it!"

Squall heard Rinoa's words so very blurred, so very distant. She screamed of monsters and of not turning and he understood. Seifer had drawn him here to kill him! Everyone he'd ever loved was the same! They were always just waiting to betray him.

Seifer threw the spell, a fire spell just as it had been that day they'd fought and scared each other. Seifer always cheated with fire! And Squall fired his pistol.

The bullet hit. Dark splattered on dirty gray coat, and a hand reached to the disappeared silver from the center of Seifer's shirt. He fell, going backwards from the momentum of the bullet. Dirty blond hair brushed forward by his face, until his head tilted back and Squall fired again, hitting his shoulder, spinning the fall.

"Seifer!" Squall screamed, his own head tilting back, pistol at his side. "Seifer!"

Rinoa was panting, chest heaving when she reached the alley, a blue sorceress light around her. Wordless she pointed behind Squall and he turned, surreal.

His light cast shadows over shards of fading ice bomb. That's where Seifer's fire had gone. His mouth opened slowly, just enough space for his soul to escape. Seifer had been defending him. Then his soul sucked back in and wrapped itself around his heart enough to chock it.

He turned back to Rinoa who knelt on the filthy side walk, knelt in Seifer's blood and sang her magic. It wasn't like in the stories. Magic wasn't that easy. Her fingers moved, tracing light and signs, her voice hummed and blue healing formed, drawn from the life energy of Esthar, from the life energy of her own soul, she fought to heal the holes in Seifer.

Squall dropped to his knees on Seifer's other side, offered his hands palms up, offering his own life energy for Rinoa's use. She drew from him, drawing reddish energy from him, pulling what she needed. If only magic were as easy as they promise in school books.

The spell sank into Seifer, rolling him, spinning him. His fingers rested on the ground while the rest of him rose and Rinoa raised the dead in an empty alley in the cheap part of Esthar. Seifer's chest rose. She ended the spell, sagging forward, hands on the wet ground, and Squall caught Seifer as he dropped, drawing him into an embrace.

The blond leaned his head back, shaking fingers reaching for Squall's eyes, until the gritty tips brushed so lightly over dark eyelashes. The left side of Seifer's mouth lifted and his hand caressed down Squall's face.

There were no words for Squall. None of the things he had wished to say to Seifer could reach his tongue. Both arms around him, he held him so tight, tight enough that he could feel him breathing, feel the returned warmth, the solidity of him, and Squall thought he'd never release him again.


	2. one

Blond Silence

By Nix Winter

I don't own ff8, alas, but I own many at darkfedora com

Author's Note: I warn you, this was written at work, on my phone, between calls... It was written just for fun.

I know him. He smiles so quietly at me, waiting for something that I don't understand. They tell me there was a war and that I killed people, that I tortured him, that I was someone frightening. My truth is that the only thing I remember from before I saw him was his eyes. They're gray, expressive, like the only thing about him that really shows his feelings first. Of course it echoes out from there, but first, everything is first in his eyes.

I have a sketchbook filled with his eyes, and then after I found him, his lips and his ears and his throat, his wild russet hair. His coat and those belts, some pages even have his secret smile.

Selphie told me I have a good imagination when she saw that page, with him smiling, but I have seen him smile like that, teeth showing, little lines by his eyes. I don't remember when, but I have.

It's very odd to remember things that people say probably never happened, to believe things people say happened couldn't have happened. I don't believe I put that scar on his forehead. If I did that, why does he still smile at me when no one else is looking?

I have a scar too, after all, and it matches his. Sometimes I daydream that we got those scars right before his fire cave ordeal, just like they say we did, but that we did it to each other, kneeling, bravely marking each other with matching scars. I think we must have kissed too, there among the witnessing stones, on our knees. But I didn't ask him. He doesn't really talk to me.

Everyone says I hurt him so badly in the war, and then I was gone for a year, just somewhere in the world. Now he spends time with Rinoa and I can understand why. She's beautiful, not like me. Her face isn't scarred like mine, more than just the scar between my eyes a burn that I don't remember left the left side of my face rough, sensitive to light and touch. Which is okay, because I don't go out and no one touches me.

Her mind isn't locked up like mine either. She can laugh, and she can cry, and she can talk.

"Hey, Seifer," Irvine called.

His voice was so easy to pick out. I knew his voice before I knew any of them. Just slightly whiney, maybe, a bit of an exotic twang to it. I looked over my shoulder, smiled, a genuine smile that lifted my mood from the darkness that had been chasing me. It's hard to sign with a pencil in my hands, so I put it in my mouth and signed, "Hello, Cowboy. How are you?"

Irvine sat down in the quad next to me, pulled his hat down so that all I could see was his lips grimacing like he'd swallowed a snail. "Why are you not in class, Seifer Almasy?"

Why is it always me that he gets right to the point with? "I didn't want to," I signed.

"You love Selphie's stupid poetry class. She sent me to find you."

"Make up the work later," I sign, then wipe my pencil off on my sleeve like I'm tired of putting it in my mouth, ending the conversation.

"Marq giving you a hard time?"

I shook my head. They said I didn't lie before, but I sure did now. I couldn't have people fighting my battles for me, standing up for me. It was something I needed to do myself, but I just didn't know how. I'd only been back at Balamb (and what kind of name is that, I ask you? Sounds like something a sheep would say.) for what? Six months? My memories hadn't been so solid when Squall dragged me back.

The doctor seemed to think she was my mother and she's got me on shots that fixed my memories, so, okay, it's been six months. If he wasn't here, I'd leave again. Most people make it real clear I don't belong here. I don't believe I'm a murderer, but I sure am tired of people looking at me as if I am.

As a distraction, I hold my sketchbook out to show Irvine. The drawing was a woman, complete fantasy, surrounded by ice so lightly shaded that she looked ephemeral, translucent. She was beautiful on paper, graceful, with an edge of dangerous vengeance.

"You know who this is?" Irvine asked, leaning forward a bit.

My head twitched, making me feel like an idiot. I do that sometimes. I'll want to shake my head. I see other people doing it and I'll forget I can't. My neck freezes up and I just can't, then I sit and twitch like an idiot.

"Here," he said, pulling a gill coin from his pocket. "Heads is yes, tails is no, and set it on its side for I really want to get a burger and go to class before Selphie strangles her boyfriend."

Smiling was easy. That never made me twitch and Irvine grinned back. I took the coin and set it between us, tails up.

"So you don't know who this is?"

I tapped the coin. People could be so irritating sometimes.

"Woh boy. Your memories are in that blond head somewhere. This is Shiva. Squally's favorite guardian. I reckon you saw her a lot in the past."

"She's," I pause, chewing my pencil for a moment, "Real?"

Irvine nodded. "You've called her before, even hosted her chilly little self in your own head. I think guardians are the reason you can't remember. Even Squally and Sel had memory problems."

"Really?" I eyed him, suspicious.

"Well not as bad as you got, but still. I think you got hurt in other ways too. Now, come on. You still want to be a seeD right? That means you've got to go to class and I know you ain't used your food tickets for a week. You trying to lose weight or what? Is someone bothering you still?"

So much for the coin being of any use. I sighed. "What are you going to do? Give me a round the clock guard? So someone spit in my food. So someone else wants to kick my ass. I ought to leave. I was doing okay till I got back here. I can take care of myself. I don't need charity."

"Well, for one, it ain't charity. You studied here and worked here a long time before that witch got you. On top of that, Laguna declared you a victim of the Sorceress and you're entitled to victim support funds. You're not a criminal and anyone who says you are is breaking the law. You're innocent, Seifer."

Gods, there were times I want to cry so badly. I want to just sob and pour out this blackness in me, but I can't. My eyes burn and my gut ties all up, but I have no more tears than words. Suddenly Selphie's class was looking really good. I set the coin on it's side and he slapped my back. I winced, chin tucking towards my chin and he froze.

"Who hit you?"

Gods, sometimes I want to scream.

"I don't know," I signed. Yeah. I lie a lot. I don't love Squall, either.


	3. two

Blond Silence 2/?

By Nix Winter

Disclaimer: I don't own ff8.

Warning: Written at the bus stop, on my way home, with hopes to somehow finish my nanowrimo that I'm 20,000 words behind on and have four days to finish....

Chapter Two

Seifer had not gone to his own trial. Squall had.

He'd sat silently, arms crossed, listening.

Edea, already pardoned spoke of a boy with a ready smile and an audacious spirit of adventure. Cid spoke of a young man who had been head strong, but brilliant, perhaps one of the best warriors they'd ever had. Doctor Kadowski had spoken of a man with kind green eyes whose mouth could no longer lift into smile on the left side, who had supported himself as a wandering artist for months after his return from time compression. Seifer could not speak for himself.

Survivors of Galbadia spoke of violence and a gunblade so fast and deadly that some of them swore he had become a monster, become a demon who could not be defeated.

The judge declared him guilty, but granted clemency for his reduced state as long as he remain forever within the walls of Balamb, for so long as Balamb would grant him home.

And then Squall had risen and spoken.

Seifer was not to blame for crimes committed by Ultimicia. As Edea and Rinoa had been controlled, so too Seifer had been a victim of the sorceress. He swore on his honor that Seifer had even aided the defeat of the sorceress at the risk of his own life by holding back and allowing himself to be defeated, time and again, and that Squall had seen the marks of punishment on Seifer, and yet he had surrendered himself for the good of all. If Seifer were guilty, how more so the persons who never lifted a finger to defend their countries or lives.

The verdict was re-struck as innocent.

Seifer too was granted a share of the Sorceress' treasure, always to be listed amoung her victims.

To Squall, Seifer was a hero. He hadn't realized it until that point, hadn't realized the depth and power of what he felt. All his previous rage dissolved into guilt, shame, for he had been the one to scar and destroy Seifer. In the final battle between them, he had been the one to spells on his failing friend until there was nothing remaining.

(It had been his spell that burned Seifer's face until it could not heal, his rage and silence spells that had squashed out what he most wanted to hear now.

Returning to Balamb, Squall had sent Irvine to tell Seifer about the verdict. He had watched on video cam though and he'd expected joy, relief, some great burst of emotion, some strident agreement. Seifer had simply looked up, smiled as if he hadn't understood a word and offered Irvine half his sandwich. The therapist they'd brought in for him reached down and covered his free hand with hers, moved his longer fingers through signing as she spoke, "Hello, Irvine. I can understand what you say." He shrugged her hand off, took a bit of his sandwich.

"Well, I damn sure hope so! You understand they found you innocent?"

Seifer chewed his lip, eyebrows drawing down, then in really slow sign he replied.

"What's he say?"

The therapist, a doctor with short pink hair said, "He said, 'Innocent of what?'"

Irvine put a hand over his mouth. No one had really spent any time with Seifer, except the doctors and his new therapist. Irvine had thought he was just sick, tired, confused, and one more healing spell would do him right. "Do you know who I am?"

Seifer pointed towards a jar with word tiles, which the doctor brought to him. She spilled them out for him and he sorted through them, fingers pushing, lining up, then Irvine got it. "She said your name is Irvine," the tiles read.

Irvine took off his hat and leaned back. "What do you remember?"

"Gray eyes," they read, then Seifer mixed the tiles and offered Irvine the sandwich half again.

"Alright," Irvine said, taking the sandwich. He wasn't going to cry. It wasn't like Seifer were dead or something. "I got sooo many things to tell you about. You and I go way back. I knew you were you were just a kid." Irvine wasn't going to cry, he'd just talk till he didn't feel like it anymore.

Squall cried all night.


	4. three

Blond Silence 3

By Nix Winter

Disclaimer: I don't own ff8 and I'm just writing this story for fun.

Three

"Why don't you go see him," Irvine asked, not looking in Squall's eyes anymore than Squall was looking in his.

Squall made a small sound, shrugged. "You said he was alright."

Irvine pressed his fingers slowly over his eyebrows. "Yeah. I did. He is. He's getting quite a vocabulary with those fingers of his."

Squall looked up, grimacing. "What?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure 'Fucking bastard' was not in the signing dictionary. You should see him before your next mission. It's been seven months since his trial and you haven't talked to him once. After what you said for him at the trial, I thought you cared about him. Are you really that pissed off?"

"No." Squall went back to the book he was reading, though the words didn't have any meaning to him. He couldn't help Seifer. Didn't they know that? Didn't they understand that Seifer was like this because of Squall? "He'll be alright."

"Well, yeah," Irvine said. "He got into a fight about two weeks ago. You should have seen him. I got it all wrong, you see. I thought they were picking on him because of well, the war, but it wasn't that at all."

Squall closed his book. "Who was picking on him?"

"It doesn't matter now," Irvine said, grinning, pretty sure he'd gotten Squall's attention. Irvine had promised Seifer that he wouldn't tell Squall about Seifer being afraid, or being shy, but he hadn't said anything about not telling Squall when Seifer came out on top. "Yeah, so this guy walks up behind him and pours pink dye on Seifer's head."

"Who?" Squall said, anger flashing, lips so tight color faded from them.

Irvine held up a hand. "I told you, don't matter. But Seifer spun and the guy froze, like he was really seeing something more than a mute artist…"

Squall interrupted, "Seifer's still not speaking? He can't?"

"You sure as hell don't listen really well. No. He hasn't made so much as a sound since he got back."

"How does he talk?"

Irvine made the sign for idiot, while smiling really sweetly. "He signs. His therapist Janyn has been teaching him. He can't write, but he can type. They think it's a psychological block of some kind."

Like from a spell gone really dark, Squall thought, his heart melting under black guilt. "He'll get better. What happened with the other student?"

"Seifer moved like so fast. Unbelievable fast. I saw it and I still didn't believe it. He blocked the guy's punch, caught his arm, pinned it behind his back, then put rubbed pink dye in the guy's hair. They both had pink spots for a week."

"I'd have loved to have seen Seifer Almasy with pink hair," Squall whispered, knees drawn up to his chest, arms around them. "Was he very angry?"

Irvine sighed. "He doesn't seem to get angry anymore. I know you don't remember him from when we were kids, but he's more like that Seifer that I knew. Since then, I guess whoever was harassing him has backed off a bit. He hasn't been skipping classes. You should go see him."

"He'll be alright." Squall said again, almost bending his paperback. "He's Seifer."

"Yeah," Irvine said, irritated. He'd also promised not to tell Squall that Seifer half floated every time he saw Squall. "He's Seifer. Why can't you just go see him?"

Squall closed his eyes, drew his knees in a little tighter. "I'll see him at the Winter Ball. He's coming? Who is he coming with? Does he have a girl he likes? A boy?"

Sighing, Irvine wanted to know why his three best friends were a mute, an idiot, and a maniac. "He's coming. I don't think he has a date," Irvine said, flashing Squall a suggestive smile. "He might ask this brunette he knows, if the guy shows any interest."

Squall's eyes glazed over. Seifer had found someone, a guy, a sweet guy who wouldn't hurt him. "I'm not going."

"Well why not?" Irvine scratched his head, pulled his hat back into place. He had to bite his tongue. He'd just about given it away, about flat up told Squall that Seifer wanted to ask him. How much clearer could he possibly get? Gods. "I mean, it wouldn't hurt anything or anything and you're not going to have any missions then."

Shrugging Squall rose. "I'm going running. He'll be alright."

Well, if Squall didn't want him, then Irvine would give in to Sel's plan and they'd fix Seifer up. Yup. That's what they'd do. "You do that. He's fine. You just leave it all to me."


	5. five

Blond Silence

By Nix Winter

Disclaimers: No, not yet. Still don't own ff8. 11,091 words to go till I finish my nano though

"You've got the gil, so what is your issue," Selphie asked, fingers smoothing over the grass in the quad, trying to look causal about it.

Seifer glowered, eyebrows drawn together. Rocking his pencil back and forth between his fingers, he tried to ignore her.

"Come on. So Squall's not going. And? Is that the end of the world? You're going to look splendid in a uniform and you have to get your old one refitted. So we have to go into town and you have to buy me lunch."

The side of his face that was scared was particularly good at making disgusted faces, nose twitching. Words were highly over rated. She didn't budge. He put his pencil between his teeth, signed. "Selphie, beautiful muse of words, I'll buy you lunch. I don't want to wear the old uniform."

"Fine. We'll get you a brand new one."

"A tuxedo," he signed, "Black, and I want to get my eyebrow pierced."

Selphie blinked, then signed back, "You have got to be kidding me. Two days before the ball and you want your eyebrow pierced? Like it will get all infected."

Smirks were pretty effective too. "Then I wouldn't have to go!"

She slugged him and he laughed. He'd put on weight since his return and if one didn't see the right side of his face, he looked, well, like Seifer. He'd trimmed his hair alittle, but it was still almost to his shoulders, and it had its shine back. His eyes sparkled wickedly as he doubled up his fist and made to hit Selphie back. She bravely turned her shoulder to him, closed her eyes.

Neither of them saw Squall watching from a walk way above. He wore a long sleeved blue shirt, jeans, nothing special, and he felt that way as well, invisible. He rested his chin on his arms and watched. Seifer had been the ghost, but now Squall felt as if he were becoming one.

From the left side, Seifer looked so normal. Blond hair caught the sunlight that filtered through garden's energy barrier roof, sparkling as Seifer tilted his head back, laughing. He watched Selphie turn, offer her arm for a strike and he tilted his own head, wondering if Seifer would hit her.

What he really wanted to know though was who this brunette was that Seifer liked. Irvine was right though, about there being an innocence to Seifer now, as if years of Seifer's life had just never happened. Sometimes Squall dreamed memories of a younger Seifer, of a beach and laughter.

Out of nowhere, Zell joined Seifer and Selphie, crashing into Seifer before he could hit Selphie. The bigger blond shoved Seifer to the grass and Squall grabbed the railing as if he might jump over, all the way down to the quad.

Seifer brought his arms up between Zell's hit hard and drove the arms part and before Squall could come to his rescue, the two blonds were wrestling around on the grass, laughing like a pair of blond wolves.

Wearing only a black muscle shirt, the muscles in Seifer's arms showed just fine and Squall leaned back where he had been, watching. Seifer really was alright, just like he'd told Irvine that he would be. The frail man that Squall had carried out of that ally had healed into a man that got Zell into a head lock, his face in the grass, while Selphie laughed at something they were saying.

Then from under the shadow of the walk way, Rinoa joined them, wearing a blue summer dress that ruffled in the breeze, her hair down around her shoulders, and a blue back pack over one shoulder.

So quickly the wrestling match shifted, and somehow Zell got the upper hand. Seifer gave a valiant struggle, and somehow missed several good opportunities, only to end being pinned by a triumphant Zell. The grin on Zell's face was heroic, and so bright that Squall worried Rinoa would get sun burned from it.

She bowed, making it a little curtsy, her chin high, dark hair against a blushing cheek and Squall's stomach dropped. She'd been his lover. Granted, that had been months ago, but she had been his only lover.

Zell rose, brushed off grass, then wiped his hands on the back of his pants before bowing back to her, as if she were a princess. She held out her hand and he took it, kissing the back of her fingers, then hiding his face and being very interested in helping Seifer back to his feet.

Squall decided that the scar burned over Seifer's face didn't really show if one got used to looking at it. And then wow, did his hands move through what ever language that was so quickly. Squall bit his lip, trying to watch those fingers move, so he could remember the motions, maybe look them up when he went home. He was going to have to learn this language. Then Rinoa responded in sign and Seifer laughed again. Squall didn't remember Seifer laughing so.. much.

Selphie laid an arm around Rinoa's shoulders and they threw their other fists in the air and cheered, both grinning like maniacs.

Zell laid both wrists behind his head and groaned, to which Seifer stepped forward, moving between Zell and the girls, signed something that blew fire over both Zell's cheeks. Even Squall smiled a little. Rinoa gave Seifer a light shove and complained. Squall decided he was going to have to learn to read lips too.

Then Rinoa turned, looked right at him, smiled so damn sweetly, and motioned for him to come too. Zell and Rinoa looked up at him and he backed away from the railing, not so much as he couldn't see them, just a little. Then Seifer looked up, and Squall wanted to die. So innocent, so welcoming, Seifer smiled, just on the right side and held out his hand, color rising on his cheeks, light, but yet so vivid against pale skin and blond hair and Squall wished he'd never been born.

Zell threw an arm around Seifer's shoulders and motioned for Squall to come on, to go with them wherever they were going. Seifer looked down though, scratching the back of his head and Squall ran.

He'd lost Rinoa and he didn't want her back, not as a lover. He didn't understand what he felt for Seifer, this feather light hope and flutter in his gut, this longing to just watch his old friend a little more. He didn't understand.

Seifer frowned as Squall disappeared, a cloud settling over him. Squall hated him. With slow, pronounced signing, he said, "I don't want to go to the ball. I'm going to stay home and study instead."

Rinoa groaned, stepped forward into his very personal space and grabbed his nose. His eyes went wide.

"Now you see here. He'll be there. So will you. You are going into town to get your eyebrow pierced and then we're getting you a tux and Sel and I are getting new dresses. He doesn't hate you."

"He does," Seifer signed. "I'm an evil monster."

Zell punched him hard then, knocking him a couple steps away. "Shut up that crap, Seifer. Just trust Rinny. She knows what she's talking about. She's a sorceress, ya know."

Seifer's face lost all color. "I didn't know."

"Seifer," she signed. "I am a sorceress, but I will never hurt you, ever. I was found innocent at my trial too. Just like you. We are the same. Am I a monster?"

She held out her hand and their day hung on his response. His fingers were maybe more expressive than his words ever had been. The moments slow, small, he said, "You are not a monster and I am not afraid of you. Zell has a crush on you."

"You prick!" Zell yelled, jumping on Seifer, knocking him to the ground as the blond laughed. "You just wait! I'm gonna get you for that!"

Soon the four of them left for town, the sudden darkness forgotten in plans for the ball.


	6. snow

Blond Silence 5/?

Disclaimers: Still not mine. Alas

Warnings: Het kisses, plottings to seduce Squall, piercings, snow

Five

Seifer sat nervously. He'd picked the ring, titanium with an emerald bead. He hadn't admitted to the rest of them that he really didn't understand how to count money. There hadn't been a lot of use for it in Garden and well, he seemed to have enough of it.

"Close your eyes," the piercer said as she pulled on her gloves. "It's not going to hurt a bit."

"Screaming's just like laughing, Seif my man," Zell teased. "You can do it if you want."

One green eye opened and glared. Rinoa elbowed Zell, who smiled at her, completely clumsy and with all the style of a sugar sprinkled cream puff. She rolled her eyes, then set her hand on the counter, suspiciously close to the tongue ring he was looking at was. Selphie was trying on a hat, a pink cowboy hat, and they all missed the quick punch of Seifer's eyebrow ring.

"Wow, not a sound. That's really impressive," the piercer said, setting her clamp back down on the metal tray. "It's just going to bleed a little, okay? Now that didn't hurt at all did it."

Seifer hadn't opened his eyes yet, but what he signed made Zell nearly choke. "He says," Zell started only to have Selphie punch him in the small of the back lightly.

Hat pulled over her eyes like she was a little Irvine, she said sweetly, "He says you did such a lovely job that he didn't feel a thing."

Seifer signed, "Liar."

"Great! Can you tell him I said he did a wonderful job?"

"He's not deaf," Zell said.

"It's a war injury," Rinoa said.

Seifer slipped out of the chair, eyes on the floor.

"Dark time," the woman said, "Still! Ten percent discount for bravery! What else are you all looking for today?"

"I want this hat," Selphie said, bouncing. "And how much for a heart with the name Irvine in it?"

"I don't do people's names. How about just a heart?"

"What if it was somewhere that no one would ever see it?"

Seifer let his eyes wander up and down Selphie, over the very short skirt, no sleeves, no back to her top, knee high boots. "I hear it's painful on your ankle," he signed, smirking.

"He says it's painful on one's ankle," Rinoa interpreted and Selphie pulled the hat down over her eyes.

"I'll pay now, thank you," Selphie said, holding out her card.

The woman snorted and rang her up.

The door bell ran as Irvine walked in, brushing snow from his shoulders. "Hey beautiful!"

Selphie ran to him, jumped and he caught her, spinning around, taking his own hat off with one hand so he could kiss her. She snuggled close, but they got interrupted as Seifer touched Irvine's shoulder.

"Gods! Seifer! What are you doing?" Selphie squeaked, letting Irvine hold her close, even as she tried to lick her lips innocent from the kiss.

Seifer ran his fingers through the snow again, not noticing that Rinoa was paying his bill. White, fluffy, cold, Seifer gathered it up in his hand, and then caught hold of Irvine's hat, gathering up some more. "It's snow. Frozen rain."

"Okay! Snow out of my shop, go on!"

Seifer gave the hat back and wandered towards the store, remembered his bill and turned back, only to have Rinoa shove the receipt into his hand. "Come on, Seifer! It's a holiday gift."

And out into the snow they ran. The white flakes fluttered down brushing against his skin and he shifted out of his coat, letting the new black wool hang from the sidewalk railing. He wore a black shirt, long sleeves, jeans, black boots and the white clung to him like tiny melting stars. Arms out he spun in the snow, catching it in his outstretched hands, letting it melt over his face. Selphie ran past him, wearing Irvine's coat and her new pink hat. Irvine ran right after wearing a smile. Zell and Rinoa stood at the side, standing closer and closer, without really noticing that they were.

"Seifer! Open your mouth, catch them on your tongue!" Zell called, and then Rinoa ran out into the snow too, bent on doing just that. Somehow she'd gotten into Zell's coat as well and the white sparkled in her dark hair as she stuck her tongue out chasing snowflakes.

Snowflakes taste like water. Chasing snowflakes with friends though made them taste better. As the snow came down thicker, Zell caught a small clump, and held it out on his tongue. Rinoa jumped on him, covered his tongue with her mouth and sucked. His eyes went wide. Seifer burst out laughing and Zell retaliated with a kiss. Arms around Rinoa, he pulled her close and they shared the snowflake.

Smiling, Seifer turned away, and his mind wandered to what kisses might taste like, what it would be like to have Squall so close. Squall's lips would be warm, Seifer decided, soft, and if he could slip his tongue into Squall's mouth.. and that wasn't right, just wasn't right to think of doing things like that to a man who hated him.

Rinoa was suddenly there, an arm slipping around his, her face nearly glowing. "Squall does not hate you. I promise Seifer. I promise he doesn't hate you."

Kind of turning so no one except Rinoa could see, Seifer signed, "You kiss Zell. Irvine kisses Rinoa. If I were a girl, maybe Squall would kiss me?"

She shook her head. "It only snows when it's cold and kisses only happen when they're ready. If you want to kiss Squall, we'll just have to get you a nice tux and see if we can make the time be ready."

That didn't make a whole lot of complete sense to Seifer, but if he needed a tux. He needed a tux.

And he got one, black with satin lapels and black boots, a dark green cummerbund and diamond cufflinks. He also bought a spicy cologne and he didn't think any of this was going to work, going to get him a kiss, but he hadn't thought the snow was going to work for Zell either.


	7. squall pov, dark

Blond Silence

Chapter five and a half

ACK>>> the formatting on this chapter got terribly messed up! faints but it's back and so is my regular beta.

I know him. He smiles so brightly at everyone, except me. I wish I'd seen him with pink hair; that would have been something. I wish he'd smile at me. I wish there was a me left to smile at. I died, in that alley, as he bled. What was left of me died. He speaks with his hands, his eyes. Irvine tells me he laughs now. He tells me Seifer cried. He also tells I'm cold. But he doesn't even really know me anymore.

"Can I help you, Mr. Leonhart?" a nice looking young woman with bright pink hair asks as I step into the medical clinic.

I nearly bolt. It's the pink hair that holds me. My jaw locks up on me though and I can't really ask her if she's Seifer's therapist, if she can teach me to sign. I can just get a book. It's not like he wants to talk to me anyway. Seifer's got that other guy he likes. He doesn't need to talk to me.

"Mr. Leonhart?" She stood, slender and rather exotic looking.

She's looking at my eyes. Gods, why do people look at my eyes? It's not like gray is an exciting color. I wasn't always this quiet either. He used to make me talk, when we were boys, irritated me so badly that I'd just talk to make him be quiet. He was the only one that talked to me when I got to Garden. He used to make me feel like the rest of the world didn't matter, like it was just him and me, and whatever homework had been the event of the time. Irvine made me  
remember too, so long ago and hazy, about how Seifer was when he was just a boy, laughing and teasing me. My silence started when he was taken to Garden without me and it was only growing worse now. One of these days I'll just slip away and no one will miss me because I'll have been too quiet for anyone to know I was here.

Her fingers rose and moved, dancing slowly in patterns like magic, but cleaner, no energy draws, no danger.

I wonder what people would do if they saw I was empty? "How do you do that," I ask.

She smiles. I hate her. It's so sudden and so dark and I hate myself. I'm dying. I see him fall again and again when I close my eyes. He didn't make a sound then either. I'd shot him. He should have screamed. I'd waited so long to have him back, kept this little flame burning in the bottom of what I call a soul, just waiting for him, and he... I killed him while he was just protecting me. This woman had given Seifer his voice back, a voice of some kind anyway, after what I'd done. I should love her. I don't.

"It's a kind of language. Come. I'll show you a few words."

Maybe, just maybe this burning is that flame coming back. I want to hear Seifer's voice, even if it's just his fingers. "I want to learn." It's my voice, but it hardly feels like myself.

I haven't wanted anything since I spoke at his trial. I haven't felt anything since he was pronounced innocent.

"Good. Can I call you Squall? Come, sit down."

How can she be so nice to me? She just doesn't know, that's all.

I find myself sitting though and hoping she can do for me what she did for Seifer. 'Give me my voice back,' I want to ask. Give me myvoice back and I don't care if you want to look at my eyes. "How quickly can I learn this?"

"How quickly do you want to?"


	8. Winter Ball

Blond Silence 6/?

Disclaimers: Not even if I asked nicely would they let me have it, so I suppose this is all just for fun. I don't own ff8, didn't think it up.

Warnings: SAP...

Six

Irvine wondered if he could use a full life on Squall if he strangled him. "Come on. Please come."

"You are begging," Squall said, flat, just a statement.

The Winter Ball had started nearly forty minutes before and Irvine swore he wouldn't come without Squall. He wore his seeD dress uniform, polished and proper as Irvine ever got. He wasn't Galbadia anymore, but Balamb and he was pretty sure if he strangled Squall they'd kick him out. "Look. Seifer bloody well dressed up for you. He's waiting down there for you. And if you disappoint him I am not going to speak to you for a month."

"Don't be a girl," Squall said, turning his back to his friend. He had to have a moment to think. Seifer had dressed up… for him? "Seifer likes some brunette. You said so."

"What. Color. Is. Your. Hair?" Irvine left then, disappearing into Squall's bedroom.

A light came on for Squall. "He can't like me! I shot him!"

"And he electrocuted you? Is it my fault if you two are the garden masochists? Is it my concern if you tie each other up and do the naughty in the quad at midnight? I don't care! I just want to go to this damn dance and hold Sel in my arms. I've got a ring for her and I've been planning to give it to her for three months. If I miss that because you're too stubborn to go talk to the man you spend all your free time guilting and drooling over, I swear I'm gonna shot something."

"Alright," Squall said, taking the dress shirt.

"Alright? Alright? You'll go?" Irvine pulled Squall's dress pants from the closet, held them out."

"I said alright."

"Hot damn!"

Squall peeled his tee-shirt over his head, his belly tight, the muscles well defined. Irvine pulled a clean tee-shirt from his drawer and tossed it. Between the two of them they had Squall dressed in under ten minutes, hair, boots, a hint of mint cologne.

Moving towards the elevator, music filtered up, nothing classic and elegant, more throbbing and passionate, full of drums. It made Squall's heart race. "So let me see this ring?"

Nervous fingers pulled the white velvet box from his jacket pocket. "Here."

"You're nervous enough to shut up," Squall sneered, opening the box. White gold, a single heart shaped diamond, it wasn't that expensive of ring, but it was nice. He pulled it out of the box and looked for the inscription which read, 'Sel, I love you forever, Irvine.'

"Simple," Squall said, putting it back in the box and handing it back.

"You think it's too simple? You think she wouldn't like it?"

As the elevator doors closed, Squall sighed. "How should I know?"

"Oh man," Irvine fidgeted. "What if she turns me down?"

"There is a greater chance of the Lunar Cry raining candy on us than Selphie Tilmett turning you down. Don't be an idiot."

"What is eating you, Squall?" Irvine asked, but then the doors opened and for Squall, Irvine didn't even exist anymore.

Seifer stood laughing, a book in his hands, as he leaned against the wall. As the doors opened, Seifer looked up at them with green eyes, so green that Squall could simply limit his world to them and it would be enough. His breath caught, until Irvine gave him a shove out of the elevator.

Seifer turned so the left side of his face faced the elevator, as he put his book into his pocket.

Squall brought his hands up and meant to sign hello, meant to say something, but his words choked there just like his tongue had always failed him.

"Hello, Squall," Seifer signed. "I was hoping you'd come. Do you understand sign?"

Lip between his teeth, Squall nodded. "I'm sorry."

Scowling, ran a hand through his hair, turned away.

"I can understand if you don't forgive me. I'm sorry for what I did."

Looking over his shoulder, Seifer watched Squall, then turned, moved closer and reached for the tears with both hands. He smoothed them away, then drew his fingers over Squall's lips. "You saved me," Seifer signed, "You pulled me from the emptiness of nowhere because I was looking for your gray eyes. You never hurt me."

"I did," Squall sobbed, his own fingers reaching to the scar pocking Seifer's face. Fingers so light, so hesitant moved over the sensitive skin. "I did this."

"No, you didn't," Seifer signed. "Dr. Arwen said that was likely done by Ulitimicia. He said it was caused by slow acid."

"Slow acid," Squall asked, fingers drawing back from the scar that went from Seifer's jaw line to just under his cheekbone and back to his ear. "She tortured you?"

"I don't remember," Seifer signed. "Rinoa said you don't hate me."

"Hate you?" Squall stepped back just a little. "I don't hate you at all. I missed you. You don't hate me?"

"I love you," Seifer signed so easily, so open, not a hesitation in a single cell of his body. "I love you so much I feel like my heart will fly away when I see you. I thought you hated me."

"No," Squall said, finally putting the pieces together, this feeling of his heart doing just as Seifer had said, trying to fly away. "Will you dance with me?"

Seifer's grin was so crooked, so lopsided, and toothy, yet he was so unselfconscious. He threw two thumbs up and swayed right there in front of the elevator. Then as if aware that Squall was staring at him, he made to look smoother, more mature and bowed gracefully, offering his arm to Squall when he stood. Squall's laughter sparkled in the elevator hall.

"You're amazing," he said, offering his arm instead, then catching Seifer's hand and drawing it so that it rested on his arm. "But I'm leading."

With one hand held under Squall's Seifer didn't know how tell him that Selphie hadn't taught him how to follow in a dance! As they entered the ball, eyes turned to them. Squall was going to kill his friends. Yes, he was.

Rinoa hushed the band and the dancers parted like an ocean of pomp and glitter. The band started again, this time with a victory waltz.

Squall froze like a rabbit, murderous thoughts dancing like holiday plums. Seifer, always the more daring, stepped one more step down into the ballroom and held his other hand out to Squall. At first the clapping from the dancers was small, then it rose, egging them on. Squall was going to kill his friends. But first. He was going to dance with Seifer.

Onto the dance floor as if it were a battlefield, Squall lead Seifer. They wanted to see them dance. Well soooo be it. He pulled the taller man to him, hand at the small of his back, as Seifer laid an arm around Squall's shoulders. Their hands locked, out to the side, Squall's holding Seifer's.

For Seifer, it was a new form of signing and he believed then, as Squall's body pressed to his that Rinoa had been more than right. Squall loved him. The music faded, then started again. Right on beat, Squall stepped into the waltz. Seifer matched him, step for step, speaking a language as old as humanity, movement, music, and love. The hero and the villain of the war waltzed through an ocean of friends and comrades and the war truly ended, healed over just a little more as cheers rose around them. Squall forgot about wanting to kill his friends as Seifer's solid body melted against his. Squall forgot about the floor and the people and the music, there was just Seifer and he held him tighter, as if this might be a dream that he'd lose if he let go.

The song ended as they reached the far ended of the dance floor, trickling away with sparkling notes and slow violin sighs. Seifer pulled his fingers from Squall's hand, slipped them into dark hair and leaned to kiss Squall. A new song stuck up and Squall let Seifer's silent tongue into his mouth, a little lost by not leading. He stepped closer, pressing himself to Seifer, searching as their kiss stumbled on their tongues, lips, over feelings too profound for scripting. It was Seifer that saved the kiss, pulling back just a little, sucking at Squall's lip until Squall understood and dove into the kiss, taking Seifer's mouth, possessing him, marking him with passion like Squall had never known for any other person.

"Hey," Irvine interrupted, "But she accepted!"

Seifer pulled at the kiss a moment more, chasing Squall's lips, but Squall, now aware of the room again, pulled back, instead just lacing his fingers through Seifer's and holding on for dear life. "Does that make you Mr. Tilmitt," he asked, lips tingling still.

Selphie slipped under Irvine's arm, grinning ear to ear. "You're next Squall."

"Maybe," he agreed, too happy to really complain about anything. "What do you think, Seifer? Will you marry me?"

Green eyes wide, Seifer took him completely seriously, and nodded. Squall froze, only the warmth of Seifer's hand in his kept him from fainting. He'd just asked Seifer to marry him, and… he meant it.

"Excuse me," Xing interrupted. "I hate to interrupt the festivities, but Headmaster Cid needs to see you three. There is a mission."


	9. murder

Blond Silence 7

By Nix Winter

"There have been three murders," Cid said.

Seifer had refused to be left behind and now stood with Squall, Selphie, Quistis, Irvine, Rinoa, and Zell in Headmaster Cid's office.

"I would not have interrupted the ball, except that two of the dead are seeDs. The other victim is the Duke of Hollivon's daughter. He is blaming his neighbor to the north, Ricart and if the murders are not solved immediately there will be war. Will you take this mission?"

They all nodded. What was to be said to that?

"Seifer, I want you to take over Instructor Tilmitt's classes until her return."

"I am going with Squall," Seifer signed.

"We had this same conversation the last time I sent Leonhart on a mission. You will instruct poetry and literature 1b, but you will not go on field missions."

"I am going with Squall."

"Seifer," Selphie started, "Please take my class."

He rounded on her, words slashing through the air as if his fingers had become swords. "You think because I can't speak, I can't take care of myself, or I can't defend myself. Solving murders is not all about swords and gf's. Sometimes it's about thinking and I can help with that."

"What's he saying," Cid asked.

"He says that he's coming and I'm not going without him," Squall said, arms across his chest.

"Is that what he says? I'll see him in the brig again. He's not going to get special treatment…"

"No," Squall said, "He's coming with us. I said I wouldn't go without him."

"Me neither," Irvine said.

"I will take Selphie's class," Rinoa said. "I can certainly teach poetry. You left lesson plans, Sel?"

Selphie nodded.

Quistis had also avoided Seifer since his return, for reasons she kept close. "Be reasonable. Seifer is not fit for field duty."

"I will stay out of your way," he signed. "Instructor."

"You don't even have a gf," she protested.

"I will give him Ifrit," Squall offered. The darkness that had been so deep in Squall until he'd gotten off the elevator and run into Seifer threatened and it seemed all the more dark now for the light that he'd found. He couldn't really believe that he'd cried, or danced, or kissed, in public. Very soon that was going to catch up with him, in a yawning chasm of death kind of way, and he didn't think he'd slip through the darkness without Seifer there to prove the ball hadn't been a delusion. "He can have any of my gfs. He can have Lionheart."

"No," Seifer signed. Looking very oddly at Squall. He didn't know what a 'lionhart' was, and he wasn't sure he wanted one. Suddenly the word… Hyperion sprang into his mind. Hyperion. "I don't want a gf. I want Hyperion."

"Then I'll find you Hyperion," Squall said, hiding the precious flame of his soul against the cold of guilt and abandonment. Seifer wouldn't leave him. 'Seifer loves me', he told himself.

Their eyes locked, green and gray and something deeply personal connected between them, something so old it reached back to before garden, but echoing through channels carved by the magic they'd both used. Seifer turned back to the headmaster, signed with as much respect as he could, "Please sir, allow me to go with them. I will obey and I will be helpful. I wouldn't cause any trouble."

"It's not just what you might do, Mr. Almasy," Cid said, lips drawing into a line, "It's that there are people who don't like you very much. I have known you since you were a child and I spoke for your innocence and I believe in it, but some people are monsters themselves. I'm trying to protect you as well as my team."

Squall paled. Cid was right. People hated still. It wasn't Seifer they should hate. And the house of cards came sliding down. Squall's façade had no more glue. And then Seifer's hand closed around his arm. Green eyes drew him out of the darkness and he followed them like a beckon.

The interaction was lost on no one.

"If I had any other way, I should find it. You are all SeeD and you have been since you were children. Lives depend on you and Mr. Leonhart is the only one the Duke said he would trust, the only one his neighbor the Count Richart trusts."

"I will not fail you," Seifer signed with one hand, still holding onto Squall.

"Remember being SeeD is not about the power one has with a blade. It is the lives we make better with our skills," Cid said leaning back in his chair. "Very well, consider this to be your SeeD exam, Mr. Almasy. Should the mission result in peace, you will be a SeeD, if not, you will be an instructor of literature and art. Is that clear?"

Seifer nodded, not caring if he became a SeeD or not, as long as Squall were there with him. "I understand," he signed.

"And while I do not have Hyperion to give back to you, I do a sword. It's name is Hespastion."

"Thank you," Seifer signed. "Thank you very much."

Darkness and light balanced. Selphie and Irvine went to their room. Rinoa coaxed Zell to hers. And Seifer walked Squall to his.

Silence can say a great deal in just hands held tight. At the door itself, Squall turned, leaned against the door, tugged Seifer close. Heat vibrated between them, the heat of Squall's soul and Seifer's innocence. With nervous fingers, Squall touched Seifer's lips, tracing them, then asked, "Have you ever thought about being my lover?"

There wasn't enough room to sign his reply, so he kissed him instead. Marriage forgotten, Seifer would be happy just to be Squall's lover.


	10. Promises Promises

Blond Silence 8/?

By Nix Winter

Disclaimer: I do not own ff8. Daniel, Da'neal, Edward, Pixlan, Nikolai, the Gold Network, and the basic story idea are mine, all rights reserved and copyright 2004. Of course, I didn't invent murder or vampires.

Warning: Original character as pov in this chapter

Notes: This is just… well, emotional play for me. The Squall and Evan that Daniel's looking for were actually somewhere in a different ff8 universe, in a rp gone differently than I'd expected.

Eight

Daniel Trepes knelt in the corner of the cheap hotel room, forehead resting in the corner, violin between his knee and a hand, bow on the floor to the side, and blood red tears running down a face only the corner could see. He was nineteen. He was going insane.

Daniel had grown up in Balamb Garden. He just wanted to go home. His mother would know what to do, how to help him. His mom would wrap her arms around him and she'd make everything okay. Evan was gone. Evan was dead. Evan Leonhart had been everything, his smile, teasing, his voice so slightly rumbly and Daniel didn't know why his tears could be cold, why they were thick and slow as they slid down his cheeks. He didn't want to know why he cried blood tears.

He should have given his first solo at the Esthar concert hall with is mother and mom there to watch, with Evan in the front row, with Evan's parents Seifer and Squall and he shouldn't have died the way he did. In his world, time compression happened nearly twenty-five years gone, not just slightly over a year. But all he knew was he had to go home.

So he pushed himself to his feet, put the violin to his shoulder, lay his chin against the cheap plastic chin rest, and drew sorrow and grief from the vibrating strings, bow slow and perfect, as his soul cried tears of song. Evan was dead and Daniel didn't care if he were insane, not at that moment.

Omi wanted to bang his skateboard hard against the side of a building. No, a great big glass window, over the top of some ignorant, stupid people, as they sat and ate and talked about life and gods, he wanted to kick someone. Omi was a witch. He'd trained with Daniel's mom since he was old enough to read. Witchery was different than being a sorceress, more like what Papa and Da did with GFs and potions, but based in energy work and knowledge, without the GFs. When Daniel had been shot to death before his first real concert, Evan, and Raine had gone to Esthar.

Omi wasn't supposed to. But he did too. He was only fifteen and he had followed Daniel, who had been shot to death by criminals, but hadn't stayed dead, through some dark void of a spell. And now. Here he was. In some mountain city, no money, no one answering when he called home. His Papa's stolen payment card didn't work and he wanted real badly to put his skateboard through a window. Deep inside, he had a terrible feeling that they weren't really ever going to see home again, even if he did find Daniel.

And then, watching that same window he'd just been about to smash a moment before he saw… Evan?

A man in black pants, red belts, a black coat with white fur around his shoulders, Evan's wild hair. Omi watch the man's reflection move by. Not two steps behind him, Papa, but a different Papa, a scar on his face, but still. Omi ran after them, "Wait! Papa! DA!"

And in the end, it was youth and hope and need that propelled him.

Seifer spun. The skateboard hit the ground, wheels up. Omi launched himself and Seifer staggered back under the momentum. Omi's arms went around his Papa and they both staggered back into Squall, who scowled like an outraged badger, but the Omi wouldn't let go.

"Child! Let go," Squall snapped, trying to pry Omi's fingers.

"Papa! Why didn't you answer the phone? Were you looking for us?"

"Let him go," Squall snarled. "You've made a mistake."

"No! Da! It's not a mistake! I know you! I'm sorry I ran away! I am! I'm sorry I took your payment card, Papa! Look! Here!" He let go then, and fished into his coat pocket and brought out a slightly battered payment card, which he handed to Seifer. It read, 'Seifer Leonhart,' and was dated eighteen years into the future.

Seifer looked at it, handed it to Squall, then signed, "This is not your home. I am not your Papa, but I will help you."

Omi blinked. "Papa? Are you deaf?"

"He's not deaf," Squall said, still studying the card. "Where did you get this? Who are you?"

"I'm Omi Leonhart. I'm sorry, Da. I stole it from Papa's wallet while he was in the training room. You're Squall Leonhart and he's Seifer Leonhart and I'm your son, Omi," he said, defeat slowly lowering his voice to a whisper.

Seifer reached out to the blond boy, smiling. It was that smile that softened Squall's glare. "If I had a son, I would want him to be like you," Seifer signed. "Don't worry. We'll help you." He turned to Squall, signed again, "We'll help him, right, Squall?"

Squall ground his teeth, but said, "We'll help. We take care of the mission first. We've got to meet the others."

"You can come with us," Seifer signed.

"Yes, you can come with us," Squall said, pocketing the payment card. As soon as he had it in his pocket though, his instinct kicked in, sending a chill down his spine. The kid was related to their mission somehow, he didn't know how and he didn't know how to explain these hunches that he got from time to time. "Are you here alone?"

"I'm looking for my friend, Daniel Trepes," he said softly, holding back on information, like that Daniel was a vampire and that his older brother was dead.

"Okay," Squall said, feeling the swirl of darkness in his soul again, some warning of darkness hunting him. "You can tell all of us about it at the same time. Save time."

Seifer stepped just slightly closer to Squall, as if he could feel chill settling over Squall. "Hungry," he signed, then mimicked lifting a fork to his mouth.

The boy nodded, blond hair shaking around his face. He had Seifer's hair, Squall's eyes, Seifer's smile, but when he bent to pick up his skate board, he moved with Squall's grace. Maybe the time compression had bent more than just time.

"He's here, Daniel," Da'neal hissed. Da'neal sat on Daniel's bed, speaking to the closed door of the bathroom. Where Daniel was button up shirts and khaki pants, Da'neal was tight black leather, worn and comfortable, a half crop top of worn black cotton, and muscles that the little violin player wouldn't know what to do with. His hair too was red, red as fresh blood and curly, laying around his face and shoulders like he was an angel. He had a sapphire blue star tattooed to his left cheek and eyes to match, blue has tropical seas. He licked his finger, sucked it for a moment, then trailed it slowly across his lower lip, as he spoke, "I told you he'd come. Didn't I? I planted all the right seeds and he's come. Now we can see that he pays. Don't cry anymore Daniel. He'll pay."

"Leave me alone!" Daniel begged, leaning against the bathroom door! "Leave me alone! I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want you to hurt anyone! Leave Evan's fathers alone! It's not their fault he's dead! It's mine."

"But when they've paid, you'll feel all better, Daniel, I promise."

"You can't promise anything! I just want to die! Then I can be with Evan."

Da'neal push his wet finger under his lip, caressing a tiny little fang, rubbing his gum, eyes closed, "Oh but you don't really want to die. You're hungry, Danny. You're sooo hungry. That's all. We'll get you something to eat soon. As soon as it's dark, we'll get something to eat."

"Leave me alone!"


	11. Pizza and Parenthood

Blond Silence 9/?

By Nix Winter

Disclaimer: ff8 characters are not mine. They belong to Square Enix. Everything else is mine.

Warning: mention of mpreg, description of murder victim, another original vamp character, or two

Nine

Squall didn't like him. The kid clung to Seifer's arm like it was a teddy bear and Seifer didn't push him away, didn't even frown. As they walked towards the café where they were to meet everyone, Squall wondered about what Seifer's son might really look like. Maybe in some other world, Seifer was a woman? A shiver went over Squall's shoulders. His thoughts conjured up a soft and compliant Seifer, shifting under Squall's hardness, and he shivered again. He rather liked the demanding hardness of Seifer's lips, the roughness of Seifer's hand in his hair and those thoughts took him back to the night after the ball and suddenly Seifer's hand caught his arm.

Blushing he followed where Seifer pointed and they were into the café. It was a nice place, with pink walls and hand hewn chairs, pale pink and white check table cloths. The others had a booth at the back. The others had ordered pizza and beer. Selphie had a salad and wine, but what Squall wanted he wasn't going to get for a while, especially not with that boy sliding into the booth beside Seifer.

"Picking up strays," Zell asked.

"Hello, Uncle Zell," Omi said, smiling brightly.

Zell dropped his pizza. "Who the hell is this?"

"His name is Omi Leonhart," Seifer signed. "He's from a different version of our world. He fell out here after time compression. He's looking for a friend and we're going to help him. Maybe we can help him get home."

"Oh yeah?" Zell said, leaning forward to look at the kid. "He looks like you, Sei."

Selphie tapped her fork against her cup. "He's got Squall's eyes though. How cute! Maybe in another world Squall is a girl! That's so sweet! But he doesn't have anything to do with the murders. We should send him back to Garden till this mission is over."

Squall poured himself a glass of beer. He was not a girl. Not in this world, or any other.

"My parents are both men," Omi said, snaking a piece of pizza, without asking. "We have an off worlder friend who had better tech. Da carried me. Papa carried Evan."

Zell busted out in laughter. "You're both chicks! Ow! Who kicked me?"

Irvine took a drink of his beer, leaned back against wooden booth. "We have enough problems without off worlders with better technology. There was another murder this afternoon."

"I should take the boy back to the hotel. Irvine can tell you what we found," Selphie said.

"I want to help! I know things! I can help," Omi protested. "I'm not going to be shuttled off to some hotel room! I'm not a little kid!"

Seifer took the boy's shoulders and turned him, then signed, "You said you were sorry you ran away. I believe you. I believe you are my son in a different world. I believe you. Here, in this world, I am your father. Don't run away again. Do as I ask."

Irvine interpreted, giving Seifer a disbelieving look.

Omi shrugged. "You're what? 20? Maybe five years older than me? You can't tell me what to do!"

"Don't you talk to him like that," Squall growled, an eye twitching. "Do you talk to the Seifer from your world that way?"

"No," Omi said, as he studied the pattern on the table cloth intently. "I'm sorry. I do want your help, but I'm not a little kid. I can help you too. Maybe Daniel and I aren't the only ones that came from our world. What if other things came too?"

"Like things that drink human blood and shred the bodies?" Zell asked, picking up his pizza again.

"Yeah, like those kind of things. Like vampires," Omi said, eyes shifting towards the door, back to the pizza. "And it's getting dark. Maybe you want to know what I know."

"Maybe we do," Quistis said, returning with a stack of folders and a smoldering anger. "Maybe we want to know why some of the forensic reports show the dna of a person who bares a marker distinctive to my family's DNA. I'm the last survivor of my family."

"Because Daniel is your son," Omi whispered, "Auntie Q."

Squall caught Quistis' arm, drawing her into the booth. Omi scrambled to scoop the folders up from the floor.

"I didn't know Seifer had a brother!"

"He doesn't," Squall said.

"I'm his son," Omi explained, irritation tinting the words. "Daniel is your son and he's a vampire. We have to save him."

"Woah," Zell said, and there didn't seem much more to say than that.

Ellie closed her eyes. Okay. She'd had five beers, and a shot of whiskey. She deserved it. Her boyfriend had left her. She deserved a moment not to feel bad. She did.

'That's right,' a voice whispered in her mind. 'You deserve it.'

She was a pretty girl, short blond hair and dream filled hazel eyes. She was a hair dresser, a normal girl with just a streak of pink in her hair and jeans a little too tight on her slender body. "I deserve it," she said, voice slightly slurred. "Why did I come into this ally?"

'Because I called you,' a male voice purred, fingers brushing over her jaw as her eyes fell shut. The voice was soft, the accent strange, flowing, full of desire. 'You are very beautiful, Ellie.'

She didn't know why she was walking deeper into the darkness of the alley. "How do you know my name?"

'I know many things,' the voice whispered, a cool breath against her ear, fingers moving through her hair. 'I know he'll be sorry tomorrow that he didn't take better care of you.'

"He'll be sorry," she agreed, turning in the strong arms embracing her. Eyes still closed she let the hand draw her head back, let cool lips brush over hers, at wet tongue trace her lips. "Who are you?"

'Does it matter,' the voice asked, so sweet and dark velvet, as his kisses trailed down her jaw, to her throat. 'Names only matter to the living.'

She shifted, pulling back from his kisses, from the fingers slipping between the buttons of her shirt. "Stop, wait," she said, as he pushed her back against a brick wall, buttons popping from her shirt. "Stop!"

One hand caressed over her mouth, holding her lips together, holding her head against the wall as his other hand opened her buttons, slowly one by one. She kicked at him, eyes closed, hands unable to pull his from her mouth. 'You're really pretty. Just remember, he's going to be sorry, and you deserved it,' the voice teased, cool lips kissing, pushing the edge of her shirt. It was the teeth though, that really echoed the scream against the palm of his hand. They were screams that no one heard.


End file.
